


Phantom

by echoist



Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, Missing Scene, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-07
Updated: 2010-05-07
Packaged: 2017-10-09 08:46:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/85271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echoist/pseuds/echoist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set just after episode 23.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phantom

Doumeki's footsteps slowed as the architectural symmetry of the urban landscape gave way to a line of charred fenceposts standing guard over an empty lot. Tall grass swayed in the early morning breeze, and for just an instant, he thought he could see something approaching through the mist-shrouded field. Doumeki shook his head. His was a different gift.

He sighed, readjusting the weight of the boy he carried on his back. Watanuki wasn’t exactly heavy, but it had been a long walk from the park, after... He glanced up at the empty space past the crumbling fence, wondering if Yūko was awake or sleeping off a good night’s drunk. If the latter proved to be the case, he and Watanuki were in for a long wait.

Doumeki gently slid the boy off his back and lowered him to the ground, resting him upright against the sturdiest looking portion of the rotting boards. It was too early for the streets to have much traffic; he supposed it would be all right for them to wait on the sidewalk until the strange inhabitants of the store acknowledged their presence. Doumeki folded himself into a sitting position as Watanuki’s head bowed forward, shifting his weight enough that he began to slide sideways along the crumbling fence. Stifling a low chuckle, Doumeki pushed him back upright, only to find Watanuki’s head resting comfortably on his shoulder a moment later.

He sighed. At least Watanuki was sound asleep, he thought, stretching out his right arm to wrap around the boy’s shoulders. He would never forgive Doumeki for this sort of behavior if he were awake. Still, he couldn’t help but feel somewhat entitled; if he hadn’t shown up to challenge the spirit, Watanuki would be -

Doumeki’s hand clenched Watanuki’s shoulder as he refused to let his mind finish the thought. _When did you let him become so important to you?_ he questioned, leaning his head back against the fence. It wasn’t so very long ago that Watanuki Kimihiro was nothing more than opposition on the soccer field; an unskilled, if persistent player throwing himself against Doumeki’s calculated defenses. Now, after what he had done, he would be lucky if Watanuki ever looked him in the eye again.

“Hey, Doumeki,” the voice issued from just below his right ear, soft and thick with sleep. He turned toward the sound before he could think, withdrawing hastily when his lips brushed the mop of dark hair pillowed against his shoulder. Words froze in his throat; he couldn’t move his arm now without throwing Watanuki off balance. Still, the other boy didn’t seem mortally offended by his proximity, at least for the time being.

“That woman…” Watanuki whispered, voice barely rising above the morning breeze. “No, the – spirit. She would have killed me, wouldn’t she?”

Doumeki blinked, his face expressionless. “Yes. Without meaning to, without any harmful intent, she would have undoubtedly caused – that is, you would have - ” The words stuck in his throat.

Watanuki stared across the street, eyes half-closed, unseeing, before releasing a long-held breath in a rush. “Disappeared?” He finished, his voice low and resigned. Somehow this was a more frightening word even than death, and Doumeki could only nod in response.

“I know I should thank you.” Watanuki said slowly, deliberately, each word falling heavily to the ground in the early morning silence. “But I can't. Not yet.”

Doumeki wasn’t sure he had heard the words correctly, but there was no mistaking the sound of high heels clicking their way up an unseen path behind the fence. “My, my…” Yūko observed with mock surprise as she stepped out onto the sidewalk. “So you went to see her again, eh Watanuki?” She shook her head and continued without waiting for a response. “It’s a good thing you have Doumeki to keep an eye on you.”

Doumeki struggled to his feet, pulling Watanuki up as gently as he could. The morning had taken more of a toll on him than he thought, and his muscles protested every motion. Yūko was watching him with a strange expression on her face, the smug fox-like grin replaced by a piercing intuition. “Hmph,” she muttered, stooping to sling Watanuki’s right arm over her shoulder. For a moment he was suspended between them both, a rag doll changing hands. His fingers slid across Doumeki’s arm as Yūko shouldered more of his weight, lingered for just an instant on his open palm.

“Don’t worry, Doumeki,” he murmured. “I'm still here.”

Yūko’s smile returned as she stepped across the boundary, their forms shimmering and insubstantial in the late winter sun. Doumeki bowed his head, the weight of his bow like a phantom on his back as he stared after them into the swirling, empty fog. “You're right where you've always been, Kimihiro,” he murmured softly in their wake. “Just out of reach.”

  
8/20/2008


End file.
